


Homecoming

by Tournesol



Series: Stand Alone Chronicles [3]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tournesol/pseuds/Tournesol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Eugene is trying to wrangle a decidedly not very cooperative and extremely muddy Akela into the bathtub without much success. He looks absolutely disheveled, red hair askew and dark where it received splashes of water. He has the sleeves of his once pristine white shirt rolled up and rendered translucent from the water and one of his suspenders is hanging loose from his shoulder."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction based on the fictional characters from the show. No disrespect meant to the real guys.

Snafu makes his way into the house, home, he thinks, and when did that happen? He used to drift from place to place, not quite at ease, never settled. But he looks around the little house they have with Eugene, Jeudi and Akela, sees all the little traces that make the place look lived in. They’re the scratches in the floorboards from Akela running full speed into the house, the dent in the cushion on Jeudi’s preferred spot on the couch, the spots of ink from Eugene’s pen on the table, Snafu’s carvings in the wood of practically every piece of furniture they own. In another life, Eugene would have frowned at the degradation resulting from Snafu’s particular past time, but now his heart swells at the little mementos. It had started with Snafu asking Eugene to tell him about one of his birds, late one night when they were cradled in bed. The next day Eugene had found the likeness of that bird carved on the outer edge of their coffee table and he’d smiled absentmindedly, running his fingers reverently over the wood. And after that Snafu had never stopped, each bird making its way from Eugene’s mouth to the wood by way of Snafu’s hands.

The thought gives Snafu pause. Yes. He likes the little life they’ve carved for themselves there. And what a feeling it is to look forward, to envision the possibility of a future, a luxury he couldn’t even think of having not so long ago.   
He takes his shoes and jacket off automatically as if in a daze, not quite out of the place his thoughts took him. He spares a last look to the little indents of their life here and thinks that not all scars are bad scars.

He’s getting sentimental, the corners of his mouth pulled unwillingly into a smile. He gets out of his head as he hears a commotion from the bathroom. What seems to be Eugene cursing, muffled by the sound of running water.   
Snafu calls out a greeting as he makes his way there, a greeting which is left unanswered. He stops at the threshold of the bathroom, crosses his arm as he leans against the doorjamb as he takes in the scene in front of him, laughter bubbling from him.

Eugene is trying to wrangle a decidedly not very cooperative and extremely muddy Akela into the bathtub without much success. He looks absolutely disheveled, red hair askew and dark where it received splashes of water. He has the sleeves of his once pristine white shirt rolled up and rendered translucent from the water and one of his suspenders is hanging loose from his shoulder. 

“Come on girl,” he’s saying soothingly, trying to coax her into the bathtub to no avail. Back at Eugene’s parents’ place, she used to jump in the shower every time Eugene was in it, loving the water. In the new house, you have to stand in the bathtub to shower and for some reason Akela won’t come near it. For all the progress she’s made ever since she got into Eugene’s life, some traumas are rooted so deep they leave a permanent scar and this is obviously one of them.

In the corner Snafu can spot Jeudi, lying on a heap of towels.  
He stays there for a while, enjoying the sight he’s presented with, sighing at feeling happiness white hot against his breastbone, tangible and there. He swears he could see it with his eyes and feel it under his palm like he does the grain in the wood he works.

“Need a hand over there?” he asks at last teasingly and Eugene jumps, not having noticed his arrival. 

Eugene gives up then, just sighs and slides on the floor, legs spread, and gathers Akela in his arms despite the mud. She nuzzles close to him, making a mess of his shirt. He looks up at Snafu, gives him a tired smile. His eyes are brilliant, relief plain on his face at seeing him.

“I give up Mer, we’re gonna sleep in a muddy bed tonight I’m afraid.” 

But then again mere smears of mud don’t bother them anymore. 

Snafu stays still for a moment, pondering, until he makes his way inside the bathroom and promptly steps inside the bathtub and sits in it, fully clothed.

Jeudi lifts his head in interest at hearing the sound of splashing water, when Eugene can only stare at him with his mouth open, not making sense of what is happening. 

“Mer, what-” 

“Jeudi!” calls Snafu before whistling, cutting Eugene’s question. Jeudi is up and running in no time, leaping into the bath excitedly to join Snafu who can’t help but laugh when Jeudi jumps on him and tries to lick his face. 

He stays there for a short moment under the watchful eyes of Eugene and Akela, until worry leaves those of the latter. When she seems more at ease, he calls to her, and instead of cowering far from the tub, she turns her head in his direction, curiosity overcoming fear by increments. When he calls to her, he gives her the time to get to him on her own, no matter how long. She first starts by putting both paws on the edge of the tub, ears still flattened against her head wearily, but she doesn’t struggle when Eugene scoops her up gently to put her in the bath with Snafu and Jeudi. 

“Doesn’t want to go in alone,” explains Snafu, smiling a sad smile. “Works better doing by example,” he adds, biting his bottom lip and tilting his head as he is wont to do, shy as he is when he imparts those genuine sides of himself instead of the bravado he usually puts on as a facade. 

Eugene sighs in relief, more grateful than he could ever say to have Snafu and Jeudi here, speechless at their support given so freely and without needing to ask: Snafu running his hand up and down soothingly over Akela’s back while Jeudi licks her chops, taking Akela’s mind off things.

With their combined effort it takes no time at all to works lather into Akela’s fur and rinse her. Eugene keeps praising Akela with soothing noises and shooting those glances towards Snafu with earnest eyes that says everything he can’t articulate with words, gratefulness, fondness, love, unadulterated. Sometimes it’s too much, looking at droplets cling to Snafu’s curls, his easy laugh when the dogs splash water at him, Eugene has to kiss those lips, soft and cool from the water. The dogs are ecstatic every time Eugene gives him a peck on the lips, which has to be just that because as soon as their lips touch the dogs start licking their cheeks, almost sending Snafu toppling on the floor of the bathtub. He grabs Eugene’s collar for support, making him stumbling into the tub, and Snafu can’t help but laugh a booming laugh at the expression on Eugene’s face, making him laugh in turn. 

It’s a pretty ridiculous situation, two fully clothed men in a bathtub and two dogs who are seriously showing signs of impatience at the confinement. And really they should have seen it coming but there’s nothing for it when Akela leaps off the bath with Jeudi in her wake, Eugene and Snafu too slow and uncoordinated to stop them from exiting the bathroom, splashing water everywhere.

“Aaaah, fuck it,” says Snafu, smiling as he lies back in a sprawl, hands clutching the sides of the bathtub.

Now that it’s just the two of them and the excitement and worry about Akela has died down they look at each other as if really noticing the other for the first time. Suddenly Snafu takes stock of Eugene, water dripping down in rivulet from his hair, cheeks flushed. Snafu runs his tongue over his lip subconsciously when his gaze follows the drops fall to gather in the hollows of Eugene’s collarbone, making the skin of his neck glisten. And Eugene knows that look and under such scrutiny he blushes, a blush that Snafu can see spreading over Eugene’s chest underneath the now see through shirt. 

Their eyes lock and reflect shared hunger and they keep looking until the room is charged with it, with anticipation and want. Eugene is kneeling over Snafu, lips parted, shining red, and he just has to put a hand on Snafu’s shoulder for support and bend until he claims those inviting lips in a bruising kiss. 

It’s hungry from the first press of their lips and soon enough Snafu is running hungry hands over Eugene’s sodden shirt, over his arms, resting them on his chest where his palm settles over his heart, feeling Eugene’s pulse jumps as he deepens the kiss, licking into his mouth and biting his bottom lip, his hand clenching on Eugene’s shoulder when Eugene lets out a moan at the bite. 

It’s all slick and they’re soon shivering, whether from the cold of from anticipation, they don’t know and don’t care. Eugene frames Snafu’s face with his hands, thumb tracing maddening circles against his pulse point as Snafu cards his fingers into Eugene’s wet hair, scratching in a way he knows Eugene loves, making him lean into the touch and offer his neck and by god, Snafu can finally run his lips over the fine column of Eugene’s throat, lick droplets of water that still spill freely from the shower head which they haven’t bothered to turn off and which is streaming a rain of cold water by now. 

The change in temperature unmoors Snafu as he tastes cold drops of water off Eugene’s fevered skin. He keeps kissing and drinking off Eugene’s skin, from that spot underneath his jaw that has Eugene sighing happily right down to where neck meets shoulder, biting when he gets to the edge of the fabric. The fabric is a frustration, taunting because Snafu can just see Eugene’s skin underneath and he needs to get rid of that shirt right now. He grabs the collar and pulls, sending buttons flying all over the bathroom and he’s not even a little bit sorry about that because now is not the time for buttons, and Eugene doesn’t seem to complain about the pace set. He’s hungry, hungry for skin, because of the the need to touch, to lose himself in Eugene. He pushes sodden cloth over Eugene’s shoulders, kissing the freckles as they appear as fabric makes way to skin.

The discarded shirt makes a wet noise as it lands on the floor but they don’t hear it over their panting but it’s still not enough, the tub hindering their movements too much. It’s a bit of a stumble to get the both of them upright and out of the tub without breaking the kiss but they manage, and as soon as they’re standing they make quick work of Snafu’s shirt with four hands, sending it to join Eugene’s on the floor. 

The first skin on skin contact as they hold each other close is maddening, their chests pressed close in a bid for friction and contact and it’s everything they want, everything they crave and Snafu can’t stop kissing Eugene, his lips, his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders and Eugene surrenders to the reverent touches, getting lost in that man, feeling safe in his hold. 

Their pants and underwear are lost between the bathroom and the bedroom as they hold onto each other as they tumble into bed laughing. Lips are made for laughing, and for kissing, and Eugene drinks Snafu’s lips from his lips the way he drank droplets from his skin. 

They keep kissing and touching, squirming on the bed, motions slick with damp skin. Eugene can’t help but let out these wonderful noises as Snafu rolls against him, hard and sinuous, his hands travelling down from Eugene’s neck to his sides, across his stomach. 

Snafu is deep into making a bruising mark on Eugene’s neck as Eugene runs a firm hand up and down Snafu’s strong thighs, marveling at feeling the muscle ripple under his palm, reveling in the gasps Snafu lets out when Eugene tightens his grip. 

They stay like that, kissing, as they take each other in hand and indulge in a leisurely pace where the build up to the release matters more than the release itself, bodies rolling against one another as if they could become one and holding each other close as they cry out in the final throes. 

It’s the kind of release that leaves the body thrumming and content, invigorated instead of somnolent and they tumble out of bed with a spring in their step and laughing the same way they did tumbling in. They trace their steps back to the bathroom, cleaning up and taking care of the mess they left on the way in, smiling as they catch the other’s eyes, laughing as they look back with a clear mind on the sense of urgency felt in the heat of moment. The realization of the power to lose themselves in the other and the trust needed for that feat is exhilarating and the thought that come with it quite sobering. 

When they make they way back to the living room, dressed and cleaned up, they realize with horror that the dogs took the opportunity to sneak out of the house, no doubt to go play in the same muddy pond that had Eugene to have to wash them in the first place.

Eugene who behind Snafu drops his head against his neck at the sight and groans, snaking his arms around Snafu’s waist as he takes in the sight while Snafu, who always loved chaos, laughs a booming laugh.


End file.
